


Behind the bar

by Crazyhotsoup



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Asthma, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Greasy Johnny Marston, John marston is a greasy bitch, M/M, Medication, Slice of Life, Smoking, lingering feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25967203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazyhotsoup/pseuds/Crazyhotsoup
Summary: John finds Arthur behind the bar.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde, John Marston & Arthur Morgan, John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Behind the bar

**Author's Note:**

> Shit I dont know, it's short and I just had a thought that modern Arthur would totally have asthma.

When Arthur didn't come back to their table, John stood and slipped out the back. 

The alleyway behind the bar was dingy and dark. He shuddered at the fading memories of wrapping himself in his arms and shivering in too many alleys that looked too much alike. 

Arthur was to his right, further into the trash-littered space. 

The bright orange of a cigarette's cherry momentarily lit his face. 

"Thought you quit." He knew why Arthur had. Being an asthmatic and addicted to smoking wasn't a good mix. 

Arthur exhaled a lungful of smoke and shook his head. 

"Yeah, well I needed a smoke." John picked his way through the empty pallets and trash towards the man. 

"Well, don't. It's bad for your lungs." He plucked the roll from his fingers and placed it between his lips. 

The older man watched as he slowly inhaled. The smoke burned his lungs and he let out an awkward cough. Arthur chuckled. 

"Com' on, Marston, I know you don't like 'em if they don't have menthol." When the older man reached for the cigarette, he inhaled again. He tsked at Arthur and threw the butt to the pavement. Arthur frowned as he ground the butt beneath his heel. 

"Maybe I just like your taste on 'em." Despite Arthur's eye roll, he still slipped his hand onto John's hip.

"You're a dumbass, Marston." John darted his tongue out to wet his lips and shook his head. 

"You're the dumbass, Morgan. Your asthma's still gettin worse and you keep on smoking your stupid cigarettes." Arthur drew him closer, leaning down to burrow his head into his neck. 

"You're the one who keeps saying he's gonna stop and sneaking out of bed to smoke at three am," Arthur mumbled the words against his neck. John wrapped his arms around him. 

"You only smoke when you're stressed." Arthur hummed indifferently into his neck. "What's wrong?" He pulled back to look John in the eyes. 

"It's nothing." John tsked and shook his head. 

"I've known you long enough to know when you're stressed. So tell me or I swear I won't let you-" Arthur cut him off. 

"The parlor's insurance policy is changing. They ain't gonna cover the medication anymore." His brow furrowed as he spoke. 

"That's bullshit. Can they even do that?" Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. 

"I don't even know, Johnny. It ain't like I can complain. Ben owns the best tattoo parlor in the area. I can't just quit, and I definitely can't argue." John rolled his eyes and leaned forward, bumping against Arthur's forehead. The older man pushed back and John let out a shaky breath. 

"Your breath smells like shit, Morgan." Arthur scoffed. 

"You always smell like shit Johnny. I paid for the nice shower and it's like you don't use it for weeks on end." John rolled his eyes and pulled Arthur flush against him. 

"Well, you could always try a little harder to convince me to get in." Arthur pressed his nose against the top of his head. 

"Don't pretend like you don't hear me asking you to get in with me every morning." John felt Arthur inhale through his hair. "You should wash yer hair more often." 

"Ain't it bad to wash it daily?" Arthur huffed loudly at his words. 

" _Ain't it bad to wash it daily?_ God, John, at least three times a week would be a good change." 

"You're a bitch, Arthur. You know just for that maybe I won't let you into bed later." He could practically feel Arthur's eye roll. 

"I ain't the man that's lost his key." John punched him in the ribs. 

"Hosea won't mind one bit when I show up at their house tonight." 

"They can't complain beforehand cause you broke yer phone." John punched him again and pressed his head further into Arthur's chest.


End file.
